"Okay," Oliver said, accepting her answer. He knew she was still hurting, knew that the factor of the unknown that came with this kind of separation had to be a killer. "Given the dynamics between him hand half the women that we've worked with, I'd say he's got interests in plenty of other places--but you know if I started showing up with you, and acting that attentive, people would think the same thing about me."
He shrugged his shoulders. "I'm sorry. I know it's really none of my business, and extenuating circumstances make it even more awkward, but from where I'm sitting, you're my friend, and I don't want to see you hurt. That being said, I am a total jackass, and you're more than welcome to tell me where to stick it."
He offered a self-deprecating smile as he put a forkful of pasta in his mouth as if to change the subject.